


The Healing Power of Hollywood

by LargeBeefFriedRice



Series: Terrible Tom Imagines [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Farmer Tom, Gen, Nutter Tom, Other, Parody, Terrible Tom Imagines, still not funny, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-28 23:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15717360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LargeBeefFriedRice/pseuds/LargeBeefFriedRice
Summary: Imagine you are some kind of assistant and have been hired on to help the one and only, Tom Hiddleston. Who would have guessed that it is actually a hard job? Or that actors are crazy?Based on the Terrible Tom Imagines Blog on Tumblr.#3: Never play croquet and don't attend Hollywood parties if you can't handle a little poop talk.





	The Healing Power of Hollywood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,  
> Welcome.  
> Let me start off by saying that if you have a Tumblr then please go follow @TerribleTomImagines and @LyingTom (the fabulous creator).  
> Once on the Terrible Tom blog, you should check out all the incredibly funny and genius people who contribute to it!  
> Definitely, don't follow me. It's not worth it. (Unless you want direct links to the specific imagines that inspire each one-shot. But even then you could just go to the actual Terrible Tom blog.)  
> Thank you.  
> p.s. This is just for fun. I do not think anything terrible about Tom Hiddleston or really imagine him this way.

So.

 

What did you decide?

 

What demands did you decide to make in order for you to stick around and deal with Tom?

 

Let’s be realistic. **It doesn’t matter.**

 

Your full list of requests was readily accepted by Tom while quietly vetoed by Luke.

 

It needs to be noted that you did however finally get a raise and also got approved for more travel time.

 

At first, the latter benefit was exciting. Imagine all the places you were conceivably going to see. Of course, you were only able to go on some of the trips but that was still better than nothing!

 

_Yet… here you are._

 

Hiding from celebrities at some after-party in LA with a wrapped up kneecap while one hand holds a walking cane and the other holds a flute of water. You’re also stuck next to Luke who gets to enjoy champagne.

 

You gave him a bitter look. You desperately needed an alcoholic drink even if it would mess with your pain meds and somehow him drinking seemed to add salt to the wound.

 

Ultimately, you were prepared to blame him for all of this.

 

~

 

Tom Hiddleston was unaware that Luke hadn’t accepted your demands. So, your first Monday back to work he had promptly embraced you and seemed confused when you didn’t joyfully return the hug.

 

“We’re friends again, right?"

 

**Fuck.**

 

Really you should tell him the truth so that maybe he’d put pressure on Luke, but then again some of the demands were outright impossible.

  
Back to redirecting.

 

"Are you saying we weren’t friends? I didn’t think me quitting would change that?”

 

Your client backpedaled immediately. He seemed flabbergasted and waved his hands rather wildly as if to brush off the notion. It feels great to not be the one grasping for straws for once. Enjoy it while it lasts.

 

“Nevermind, Tom. Today is your last day here before you leave for three weeks for the promo tour. Which means we are free to spend it however you choose,” you almost chirp at him and grin when this seems to add to his troubled feelings.

 

He gave a few ‘umm’s and 'uhh’s while you walked around to find Bobby. The poor pup was, regrettably, going to have to stay at a kennel while you all were away since this trip you wouldn’t be left behind. You needed to gather him, his paperwork, and a few other necessities so everything was in order for later this evening.

 

“We could work on the website?”

 

You paused and gave him a look over your shoulder.

 

'You’re right. That can wait until we get back,“ he hastily remarked and stiffly rubbed at the back of his neck. "Maybe we could go to the park with Bobby and play some croquet?"

 

This actually sounded like a good time.

 

~

 

Of course, thinking back on it, maybe it would have been better to work on the website.

 

How on Earth could anyone have guessed that Bobby would recklessly run around trying to play with the balls and that Tom’s solution would be to 'swing faster’?

 

Apparently, Tom also meant 'swing harder’ and the combination of _faster/harder_ made for the perfect beeline to your kneecap.

 

Everyone in their life has bumped their knee on something and sworn their kneecap was busted.

 

You were laying in the park howling and fuming and positive that your knee was actually done for.

 

It was actually full on bleeding.

 

**They were probably going to have to replace your whole leg.**

 

"Woah! Y/N! I am so sorry! What do I do?"

 

"Either drive me to the ER or call an ambulance! Really our only two options here!"

 

The man moved for his pocket before stopping and glancing between your bloody knee and your angry face. His blue eyes seemed pensive and deep in thought.

 

"No. Those are the only two options. I don’t need any nut. I don’t need to be peed on. I didn’t get stung by a jellyfish!”

 

Finally, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his mom.

 

**Close enough.**

 

~

 

“Hey, I just got another text. Seems like Tom is ordering a lot of stuff from Amazon?” Luke asked with just a hint of cautiousness.

 

“I know it’s supposed to be my job to stop him from doing that tonight but I needed a break after he talked with Gwyneth Paltrow and she told him that I could heal my knee by sticking a jade egg in my vagina.”

 

He gave you a blank look.

 

“Yes, that explains the first purchase and also why you are over here talking to me.”

 

Really you can only nod in agreement to that. If Luke had met your requirements for continued employment maybe you would have been okay with staying at Tom’s place and working on promotional images for Tom’s Nut Farm.

 

Instead, you were forced into this corner while your client retold the harrowing story of your knee and then promptly ordering whatever people told him would help make it heal faster.

 

“What was the last thing he ordered?”

 

“I think he meant to order actual stem cells, but he got confused and ordered a stem cell plush.”

 

~~Hmm. That actually sounded cute.~~

 

When nothing else got said, Luke went back to checking texts and emails on his phone while you finally started to sweep the crowd for the insufferable man you were supposed to be babysitting.

 

The one thing you could give Tom credit for was that he really didn’t seem that crazy in comparison to most of Hollywood.

 

So far, throughout the party, you had only met two or three newbie celebrities who had obviously not fallen victim yet to the deep hole of idiocy that had trapped almost everyone. But it was clear they weren’t going to hold on to their sanity much longer.

 

They were all going to move to the Tom stage and then all of them would potentially move onto the Shia LaBeouf stage. Some were destined to be the next Charlie Sheen.

 

A flash of blue eyes over the top of some of the shorter celebs catches your eye so you start to wobble forward on your cane and limp leg. You needed to have a word with the nut farmer about all of his Amazon purchases.

 

Gently but steadily you push through the crowd and head towards the general area of the blue eye sighting.

 

You bump awkwardly into the back of another taller man and mumble out a quick apology before stopping in your tracks. For a moment you wondered if you’d run into the back of an older model of Tom but, after the man turned around, realized it was the incredibly good looking Jude Law.

 

“I’m so sorry Mr.Law! I didn’t mean to just run into you like that,” you let yourself teeter a little in hopes that your busted knee might earn you sympathy points.

 

Jude’s clear eyes give you a once-over before he offers a smile and says, “Please, you can just call me Jude. It’s no worries. You didn’t run into me too hard.”

 

You both laugh. Though yours is borderline nervous breakdown while his laugh is cool and collected.

 

There was something about him that didn’t give off that crazy vibe. Maybe you had found someone who truly had escaped the clutches of Hollywood for this long.

 

“I don’t think I’ve met you before… are you up and coming or maybe here with someone?”

 

“Sadly, I’m just here with someone that I have lost somewhere in this party.”

 

“What a shame. You look like someone who could really make it in the business–”

 

The most endearing sentence you had possibly ever heard was interrupted by:  
“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you! George Clooney just gave me the best idea for more merchandise to add to Tom’s Nut Farm.”

 

Did all the blood in your body rush to your face or drain from your face? It was really hard to tell as you watched Jude Law and Tom Hiddleston suddenly size each other up.

 

You had probably just met the only truly sane person in here, who was giving you a nice compliment when your client had single-handedly ruined any chance of you ever being able to look Mr.Law in the face ever again.

 

Jude was the first to say anything after Tom’s interruption.

 

“Let me guess… Pubic Hair Jewelry?”

 

“Yes, actually. Has he talked to you about this as well?”

 

“Yes. I’ve looked into it. There’s no market it for it. The best market you could try and tap into right now is-”

 

You simply hung your head in defeat and tiredly rubbed at your face with your free hand as they discussed possible 'scat’ options. Then tipped your head up and mentally begged for a sniper to take you out when then the word 'poop sock’ was casually brought up in their lively conversation.

 

“Listen, I’ve got to go but it was lovely meeting you, Y/N. It was also… pleasant to talk with you… Tom,” and with that Jude Law returned to the sea of people.

 

Without looking at Tom you simply turned and starting tottering back towards Luke. Well, at least back towards the corner since once you got there you realized Luke had finally managed to get off his phone and also vanish into the crowd.

 

A hand landed on your shoulder and caused you to slightly jump before Tom’s voice reassured you, “I know you’re upset…”

 

All you could do was turn and let him see your agitated face.

 

“But I can promise you that the Pubic Hair Jewelry is going to be the better option.”

 

A tray of champagne flutes almost went buzzing by but somehow you managed to whip your hand out and grab one. Awkwardly, Tom assumed that you had grabbed it for him and tried to clutch at it as you quickly brought it to your mouth and downed the whole drink.

 

**Pain meds** be **damned.**

 

Seeing his hand weirdly being held out you assumed, or rather didn’t care and decided to believe, that he was gesturing to take the empty glass from you; so you eagerly gave it to him and took a step back against the wall.

 

“I agree, Tom. Jude’s out of touch and you should listen to George.”

 

And with that, he and the empty flute were gone in a flash. You guessed he was going to talk to someone else about partnering up or whatever.

 

**Honestly…?**

**Who knows? Who cares?**

 

All you know was that your confirmation excited him and you now were able to decompress against the wall and accept that you were spiraling away from reality on the theoretical crazy train.

 

You closed your eyes and wearily sighed to yourself.

 

“Hey, Tom just ordered something called a 'Manscape Kit’? Please tell me that’s not also supposed to heal your knee?”

 

Okay, apparently you wearily sighed to the 'now back from the party pit’ Luke.

  
“No, that one is for him. Well. Maybe him and George Clooney.”

 

He had no reply to that and just leaned against the wall next to you.

 

_Maybe some of those demands weren’t so improbable and maybe Tom could order them off Amazon somehow. Right now, you would love to see the look on Luke’s face when he saw the texts showing they had somehow been ordered._

**Author's Note:**

> Internet, please have mercy on my soul.  
> Have I apologized yet? No?  
> Then let me start here.  
> I'm so sorry.  
> Seriously.  
> Bye.


End file.
